Mariel's Magic

Chapter 5. Michael

Adriana was still six weeks from her due date and was walking to the little Japanese market, with a craving for something salty and sweet. Jonathan was at home and offered to walk with her, but had not yet showered, and she told him it was not necessary. The night before, she had had a disturbing dream but felt safe enough walking the three blocks down the busy street. She thought they were doing what they needed to do, to keep both themselves and the baby safe.

Suddenly, she felt a sharp jab in her arm, and all was dark. A man had come up behind her and injected her with a strong sedative that immediately caused her to go unconscious. She collapsed in his arms, and he picked her up to carry her to a waiting car.

"What happened?" asked a bystander.

"She fainted," said the man, "my wife, she's pregnant, and has done it before. Lucky my car was right here."

The bystander opened the car door for the man, who gently laid Adriana on the back seat. Seemingly satisfied, the bystander walked on as the car pulled away. The man got into the driver's seat and headed west. After a few miles, he pulled into a commercial garage, parked, and then lifted her out of the back seat and carried her to another car that was parked nearby. He placed Adriana in the back of the other car and then left the garage. He crossed the Bay Bridge and drove to a small house in the Oakland hills, where he carried Adriana out of the car, into the house, dressed her in a nightgown, and put her into a bed.

Adriana woke with a headache an hour later, wondering where she was. She got out of bed and discovered she was wearing a long nightgown. Woozy, she staggered to the door and tried to open it, but it was locked. She walked over to the window and looked out but could see only the blank wall of the house next door.

***

When Jonathan got out of the shower and dressed, he made coffee and scrolled through the news on his phone. He expected Adriana to return any minute, but she did not. He called her cell, but she did not answer. Then he walked up to the market, and then went into the market, but she was not there. He called again and still got no answer. He then went into the mall, thinking she was browsing the shops and had her phone on silent. She was not there. He went back to the apartment, hoping she had returned, but the place was empty. He kept calling and texting, with no response. Then he just paced back and forth in the living room, frantic, his gaze shifting from the clock on the wall to the window, now showing a darkened city. It had been 12 hours since Adriana left their apartment, headed on a three-block walk to the store.

"Where is she?"

With trembling hands, he picked up the phone and dialed the police. "911, what's your emergency?" the dispatcher said calmly.

"It's my wife, Adriana. She's disappeared. She left to go to the store at 9 this morning, and... and she hasn't returned. I've called her cell over twenty times. There's no answer," he said in a voice that betrayed fear and anxiety.

"Sir, can you please provide your name and address and stay on the line? We're going to send a car to your location now. Have you noticed any signs of distress, or anything unusual before she left?" the dispatcher asked in a professional tone.

"No, no, nothing like that. Everything was normal. We haven't been fighting. Listen, she's eight months pregnant. I'm really worried."

"A car is on the way now, sir, just stay on the line," the person said, trying to assure him.

Minutes later, two officers arrived, and he buzzed them up to his apartment.

"Mr. Stone? I'm Officer Packer and this is Officer Daniels. We're here about your wife, Adriana Peters. Can you tell us what happened today?" Officer Packer asked, her notebook ready.